


aimes moi jusqu’à ce que les roses fanent

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Makeup Sex, Porn with Feelings, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: “there was a star riding through clouds one night, and i said to the star, ‘consume me’.” woolfor: eliott is really tired of arguing.





	aimes moi jusqu’à ce que les roses fanent

**Author's Note:**

> i told myself i wasn’t gonna become the person who only writes smut. oops. enjoy!
> 
> (the title means ‘love me until the roses wither’)

eliott is  _ really  _ tired of arguing. for many reasons, but mostly just because it’s exhausting being yelled at and yelling at someone constantly. and, of course, because he hates being anything but deliriously happy with lucas. he hates the weird strain they have, the tension between them that’s more uncomfortable than the sexual tension they’re used to. eliott knew, of course, that these sorts of things would happen. he just didn’t know it would be so soon. 

and he’s tired of it. all he did was argue with lucille, he doesn’t want to do that with lucas. he wants them to be happy, to  _ communicate.  _

(eliott knows he’s not exactly helping the whole communication thing, but still. lucas should be more understanding.)

“i’m really tired of having the same argument with you, lucas,” he mumbles, rubbing his temples with his two fingers. they’ve been locked in lucas’s room for the better part of two hours, arguing with each other nonstop. seriously, eliott hasn’t even sat down yet. he’s so tired, and yet lucas is still vibrating with anger. “when will you let it go? honestly, aren’t we done with this by now?”

“we’ll be done with it when you stop fucking lying to me. i hate being lied to.”

_ well, who likes being lied to?  _ eliott doesn’t say that. he’s done his fair share of snapping at lucas, and he doesn’t want to do that anymore either. because he gets where lucas is coming from, he honestly does. but eliott doesn’t think he should have to share everything about his past with lucas, and  _ especially  _ not on lucas’s terms. there’s things that eliott doesn’t know about lucas’s past, and he’s never pushed. why can’t lucas extend him that same courtesy?

it’s moments like these that it becomes apparent just how  _ young  _ lucas is, that eliott is reminded that he’s lucas’s first for everything. he’s never done this before, he’s never been in a real relationship. lucas demands transparency and thinks he has the right to know everything—he thinks it boils down to eliott not trusting him when, really, all this is doing is showing eliott that lucas doesn’t trust him. at all. 

and isn’t that a thought. 

“do you trust me? honestly.” it’s a question, but not meant to be answered. and lucas doesn’t answer it, not verbally anyway. he does, however, answer it with a hardening of his face. eliott squares his shoulders. “i’m serious. because you go on and on about how i don’t trust you, and yet you can’t just let things in my past stay there. you don’t have a right to know about that stuff, you know. my past is  _ mine.  _ i don’t have to share everything with you just because you ask me to.”

lucas scoffs. “that’s how relationships  _ work.  _ we tell each other everything, that’s the whole fucking point. if we don’t have that, if we don’t have trust, what the fuck do we even have? i trust you, eliott. i would tell you everything you wanted to know.”

“really? so, you would tell me about what happened with your parents if i suddenly decided i have the right to know?”

“sure. you  _ do _ have the right to know,” lucas shrugs. and he looks visibly uncomfortable, but he barrels on. “my dad left when—”

“goddamn it, lucas, stop. i don’t actually want to know. because you’re wrong, i don’t have the right. of course i want you to tell me things, and i want you to trust me enough to tell me, but i want you to do it when you feel like you want to, or when you feel like you’re ready. i don’t want you to tell me because i’m making you feel like you have to. jesus.”

lucas crosses his arms over his chest, and eliott frowns. he knows that gesture. he knows what it means for lucas. it means he’s about to shut down, to close himself off and push eliott away. and that’s the last thing he wanted to do.  _ should’ve just kept my mouth shut.  _

“whatever,” lucas sniffs, and eliott catches a glimpse of lucas’s fingers burying themselves in his jacket—like he’s holding himself. “i don’t want to be lied to, eliott. i’ve spent my whole life being lied to and manipulated and i can’t do it anymore. i  _ can’t.  _ i ran away from it. you have to be honest with me or i don’t know what the fuck i’m going to do.” his voice is strained, like he’s struggling to hold back, and his hands have curled into fists. 

eliott does  _ not _ mean to roll his eyes. he  _ doesn’t.  _ he knows any bit of information about lucas’s parents is something he should treat like glass, because it’s fragile. lucas is fragile. and if eliott drops it when lucas hands it to him, he may break lucas’s trust. he might cut lucas on the glass shards. 

he doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, but he does. and he sees the way lucas’s face cracks, and he realizes his mistake. 

“did you honestly just fucking—”

“i’m just tired of you guilt-tripping me,” eliott snaps, and there goes the whole  _ i’m not going to snap at him _ thing. he’s digging himself a hole, and he can’t stop no matter how hard he tries to slam on the brakes. “we’re arguing, lucas. you can’t just bring up your parents to get me to fold. we’re not them.”

lucas gapes at him, and tightens his crossed arms. shutting down. “fuck you, eliott. get out.”

and eliott was expecting tears, or silence, or even more yelling. he was not expecting that. guilt swirls in his stomach and he tries desperately to backtrack. “lucas—”

“get out, i’m fucking serious!”

“baby,” eliott tries again, desperately. he feels like the world is crumbling underneath his feet and he’s trying to stop it, but he can’t. he can’t. “baby, i’m sorry. let’s just talk about this rationally, okay?”

“we’ve done enough talking! i don’t want to talk to you! get out! get the  _ fuck _ out!”

lucas makes his way to the door, pulling it open and gesturing for eliott to leave. he can see mika and lisa standing across the hall, clutching their ice creams to their chest, too shocked to pretend that they hadn’t been listening. eliott feels his cheeks flame as he looks at them, but pushes it aside to turn back to lucas. 

he reaches for lucas’s hand, but lucas yanks it away. “baby, i’m sorry. please, just talk to me. we can talk about this.”

“what part of  _ get out _ don’t you fucking understand?! i know that you failed the  _ bac _ but i didn’t realize you were fucking—” he cuts himself off, then, closing his eyes and gesturing to the door.  _ he looks so young.  _ “i’m sorry. just, please go. i can’t even look at you right now.”

eliott’s heart breaks. he looks at lucas desperately, internally pleading for him to open his eyes.  _ look at me. look at me look at me look at me.  _ “no. i’m not going anywhere until we sort this out.”

“oh, so now all of a sudden  _ you’re _ allowed to make demands and not respect what i asked for?”

“that’s not even  _ kind of _ the same thing.”

“this is my apartment, eliott. so get the fuck out.”

“actually,” mika interjects, causing both boys’ head to snap up, “it’s mine. and if lucas is asking you to leave, eliott, then i think you should go. all of this arguing isn’t doing anything but hurting you two, anyway. maybe you just need to sleep on it and talk in the morning when you’re calm.”

eliott can feel the irritation like sandpaper on his skin. he didn’t ask for mika’s opinion, he doesn’t care about it. mika may be significantly older than lucas—a big brother figure to him—but he isn’t much older than eliott. and he doesn’t like being talked down to, or offered relationship advice that he didn’t ask for. frankly, it’s none of mika’s business. 

but it is his apartment. 

he turns back to lucas, speaking quietly and only for him to hear. “can i come back in the morning? or we can go out to breakfast or brunch or something, if you think talking in public would be better. to avoid any escalation.” lucas meets his eyes, and he looks so fucking sad, and eliott hates himself. he’d known that all he would do is hurt lucas. he knew it. and he’s fucking selfish enough to stay. “please?” the word tastes like bile. if he was a better person, he’d just leave lucas alone for good. 

“yeah,” lucas murmurs. “you can come over.”

“okay.” eliott pauses, waits for lucas to say something else. when he doesn’t, eliott just braces himself, nodding and heading out the door. 

he grabs his jacket and keys where they’re sitting by the door, and slips his shoes on. he can feel mika and lisa’s eyes burning holes into his back, and he tries to ignore it. deep down, he knows they mean well. despite the annoyance of having them consistently butt into his and lucas’s relationship, he knows that mika has been there for lucas through a lot of bad shit. and he knows how much lucas’s roommates mean to him. how, if he hadn’t moved in with mika, it’s possible that he and lucas may not have ever even met. it’s a scary thought. anyway, he knows they mean well, so he focuses on everything but them. 

once his jacket is on, he pats his pockets to make sure he has his wallet and everything. part of him is disappointed to realize that he does have everything, because he has no excuse to go back to lucas’s room. 

“bye,” he murmurs to lisa and mika, and then turns to leave. he makes his way out the door and barely gets to the stairs before the door is opening again and lucas is calling for him to wait. 

when he turns, lucas is just standing by the door, not moving any closer to him. at first, eliott thinks he actually did forget something. “i just wanted to remind you that i love you,” lucas says to him, and eliott’s heart blossoms in spite of it all. “this is just a fight, eliott. no one’s leaving for good.”

_ are you reminding me of that, or yourself?  _ eliott doesn’t ask that question—doesn’t have to. he knows the answer. 

“of course,” eliott reassures him. “i love you.”

lucas nods a few times and then slips back into the apartment, and eliott sighs heavily before making his way down the stairs. 

after an agonizingly long bus ride and walk home, eliott finds himself checking the clock every fifteen minutes. it’s like he’s buzzing with nerves, feeling as though something is missing from him. he makes dinner, but focuses more on the time and burns a good portion of it. he does the dishes, but spends more time watching the clock and the water runs cold. he does homework, but can’t focus and ends up guessing for most of it. he can’t find anything to occupy his mind and keep his thoughts away from lucas. 

he climbs into the shower just after sunset, and he tries to make it as long as possible. he washes his hair twice and his body three times, until his water is cold and his body is numb from the constant water pressure. when he finally gets out, it’s barely been half an hour. 

when he gets in bed, it’s way earlier than normal. he tries to watch netflix to waste time, tries to eat snacks and scroll through social media. he even tries to go to sleep, but winds up just staring at the ceiling. 

so he cleans his room. he cleans the kitchen. he cleans the living room. he watches more netflix. he makes lunch for his parents for tomorrow. he watches even  _ more  _ netflix. 

still, by 2:17am, he’s laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep despite the burning of his eyes. 

fuck it. 

he gets dressed to brave the chill of the late night, putting a coat on over his pajamas and putting on an extra layer of socks to make up for his flimsy pajama pants. he makes the same agonizingly slow walk and bus ride back to lucas’s and, when he’s standing at the door, takes out his phone to call lucas and ask him to let him up. 

it’s just pure fate that right as he takes his phone out of his pocket, lucas calls. 

“hello?”

“i can’t sleep,” lucas says, and eliott’s heart all but melts. “i’m coming over, okay? i’m sorry about the fight and i’m sorry about what i said. i don’t want to argue anymore, i hate it. i hate fighting with you.”

eliott knows the look on his face is impossibly fond even without seeing it.  _ is it possible to be so in love with someone that you’re consumed by it?  _

“i hate fighting with you, too, baby. but, hey, you don’t have to come over.”

lucas huffs, “but i want to. i can’t sleep without you anymore. which is really fucking annoying, by the way. i went years sleeping alone and now you’ve gotten me so fucking codependent—”

“baby, let me up.”

“huh?”

“i’m downstairs,” eliott muses. “let me up.”

there’s silence on lucas’s end, and then a burst of bright laughter like he can’t quite believe it. eliott couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face if he tried, especially when the door buzzes and eliott can finally make his way in. 

he takes the steps two at a time, making it to lucas’s apartment in record time. he doesn’t have to knock, thanks to the phone—lucas has the door open the second eliott is in sight of it. eliott jogs over to him and hugs him right there in the doorway, bodies pressed tight against one another and hands fisting each other’s shirts like one of them might disappear or change their mind. 

eliott isn’t sure who leaned in first or what, but then they’re kissing, right there in the entryway. they haven’t even passed the threshold into the apartment and the door is leaning against lucas’s side, like a reminder that they should probably go in and close it if they don’t want to give the neighbors a peep show. it wouldn’t be the first time. 

_ “if you don’t take me inside right now,” lucas breathed, hands dancing over the expanse of eliott’s back like he was reaching for something, hips grinding against eliott’s leg, “i might just let you fuck me right here in the stairs.” _

it’d been after a party, they were both pretty drunk. eliott discovered some new things about himself that night, like how  _ hot _ he finds the idea of risky sex. he hadn’t indulged in that fantasy then, and still hasn’t, but still. he likes that about his relationship with lucas, there’s always new things to learn about themselves and each other. 

it’s lucas who finally backs them up into the apartment, and eliott figures it’s probably because he’d been too nervous to do it himself. like he was waiting on lucas’s permission. and it’s nice to be granted that, to be allowed in. they don’t break the kiss the entire walk to lucas’s bedroom, even though eliott is just blindly following lucas’s lead. 

the lock clicks somehow, and eliott doesn’t even have time to ponder how lucas managed to lock the door without breaking the kiss, because he’s being shoved back onto the bed. he huffs out a laugh, raising himself up on his elbows to watch as lucas pulls his shirt off.

“you know,” eliott murmurs, “i didn’t expect to get laid the same night i said such shitty things.” he pauses, watches as lucas falters in his movements and just stares at eliott. “i’m sorry, by the way. what i said about your parents was… i shouldn’t have said it. i didn’t mean it, i just knew it would hurt you. i know that’s fucked up. i’m sorry.”

“i said some stuff i didn’t mean just to hurt you, so. it’s not like i’m innocent. i forgive you.” he doesn’t say  _ it’s okay,  _ because they both know it isn’t. eliott is glad he doesn’t say it, really. he’s glad that lucas won’t let him get away with stuff like that. “i’m sorry, too. for everything. for pushing you to talk about shit that you’re not ready for, and for making you think i don’t trust you. i do trust you. i trust you with my life. i want you to tell me when you’re ready. and if you never are, that’s okay, too. and that thing i started to say at the end, about the  _ bac— _ god, eliott. i’m so sorry.”

“i forgive you.” he leans back a little bit, smiles at him. “i love you.”

“i love you.” lucas glances down at his shirt, balled up in his hand, and then casts an anxious look to eliott. “is this… do you want to—”

“baby, if you’re not naked in the next five seconds, i’ll go home.”

lucas snorts, throwing the shirt on the floor and then climbing up on the bed, straddling eliott at his waist. “no, you won’t,” he mumbles, leaning down to mouth at eliott’s neck.  _ no, i won’t,  _ eliott agrees mentally—he means to say it, but then his mouth becomes occupied doing other stuff before he can. 

eliott turns the kiss dirty before lucas gets the chance to, and revels in the moan it pulls out of lucas. he reaches down to pull off his own shirt, but lucas quickly takes over, throwing elliott's shirt onto the floor with his own and then working on eliott’s pajama pants. 

once they’re off, lucas fumbles with his jeans, swearing at himself under his breath. eliott decides to take initiative, sitting up and looping one arm around lucas’s back, and then using his free arm to flip them over. as soon as he gets lucas beneath him, he kisses a quick trail down lucas’s chest and, upon reaching the hem of his jeans, takes them and his boxers off in one swift movement. 

“why are you even wearing jeans at 3am?” eliott mumbles, moving to suck a love bite into lucas’s hip. 

“i told you,  _ fuck,  _ i told you i was gonna come over. i was already dressed when i called you.”

eliott hums around the love bite, pulling away once he’s satisfied. “how sweet,” he murmurs, and then holds lucas’s eye contact as he swipes his tongue over the love bite to soothe it. 

lucas is hard and dripping, and all eliott wants is to  _ taste.  _ he moves his kisses over and then swallows lucas down right there, tucking his thumb into the palm of his hand to try and fight off his gag reflex. he’s rewarded by a moan way too loud for the quiet of the night, and the beautiful arching of lucas’s back. eliott makes a mental note to paint lucas like this one day: all spread out on the bed, knees bent and heels planted into the mattress, hands fisting the sheets, back arched and head thrown back. he’ll call it  _ the ecstasy of lucas lallemant _ and they’ll hang it in the louvre, where millions of tourists will flock to see it. and eliott will count his lucky stars and all of the fates and gods and destinies and prophecies that conspired together to make him the only one who gets to see the real life thing. 

(don’t get him wrong; he loves art just as much as the next guy. hell, probably  _ more _ than the next guy. he’s spent hundreds of dollars on and probably hundreds of hours in art museums. he loves art, he loves creating and he loves appreciating other people’s creations. 

it’s just that he can’t help but pity anyone who would have to spend money to experience lucas lallemant. the real thing isn’t always better, sometimes the real thing is just a disappointment. but not this time. eliott would rather never draw or paint again than never spend another second with lucas. that should feel like something very heavy, suffocating even. but it doesn’t. 

he’s just really, impossibly, totally, deeply, insanely fucking in love.)

and eliott has to say it. he pulls off, works his hand over lucas’s spit-covered cock, and tells him. “you’re so fucking beautiful, i swear you belong in the louvre. i love you so much.” and it’s way too soft for the moment, almost out of place. but it isn’t, in a way, because this is them making up for the fight earlier and if eliott has to spend his entire night mending the bruises and cuts he caused during the fight with bandaids made of sweet nothings, well… he can’t think of a better way to spend his time. 

“shut up, you’re just saying that to get in my pants.” it’s a thing lucas does, joking to cover his vulnerability. but eliott can see how he’s blushing. 

“i’m already in your pants, baby,” eliott teases in return, and then dives back into the blowjob. he does his best to make it good for him, focusing a lot on suckling the head the way he knows lucas likes, using his tongue as much as possible, making drool run down his chin. lucas likes it sloppy, likes the picture eliott makes, swears he gets off on the view possibly more so than the actual blowjob. 

which, eliott isn’t entirely sure he believes that, because lucas’s eyes have been screwed shut almost the entire time, and he’s still close. eliott doesn’t mind. he closes his own eyes, squeezes his thumb harder, and tries to relax his throat enough to swallow lucas down until his nose hits lucas’s pelvis. 

he manages it, but just barely, and then lucas is pulling him off. “stop, you gotta stop. i’m gonna come,” lucas pants out. eliott pouts as he wipes the spit off of his face, but lucas doesn’t let it happen long before he’s making grabby hands and tilting his chin to beg for kisses. 

eliott gives in easily, kissing him until his lips are numb and then some. he naturally finds his way in between lucas’s legs like he belongs there, like the cut of lucas’s thighs were made specifically to fit around eliott’s hips. 

lube is pressed into eliott’s hand without the kiss ever breaking, which is even more impressive than the locked door. but eliott doesn’t waste time with questions. he slicks up his fingers and slips one in and then two, just because he can. it’s tempting to spend an unnecessary amount of time fingering lucas just so he can see the way lucas falls apart, but eliott is getting impatient. it’s nearing 4am now, and although every nerve ending is burning and alive, he’s still aching for sleep. he figures lucas must be, too. 

it’s barely thirty seconds before lucas is asking for a third finger, and only a minute or so of that before he’s insisting he’s ready. eliott takes his word and slides on the condom, positioning himself then pushing in slowly and then all at once. 

he waits, once he’s fully seated. he lets lucas breathe, kisses him until the pain goes away. eliott thinks this is when he’s at his most beautiful: when he’s so overwhelmed from the feeling of eliott inside of him that it’s all he can do to just keep breathing. his eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched, torn between pleasure and discomfort, and aching for release. 

“move, please.”

eliott doesn’t have to be asked twice. he pulls out and then pushes back in, keeping his strokes slow but thorough. loving and sweet—or, well, as loving and sweet as sex can be when they’re both tired and desperate. lucas wraps his legs tighter around eliott’s waist and crosses his ankles against the small of his back, and then wraps his arms around eliott’s shoulders. eliott leans down to kiss him, and when the kisses turn into just breathing into each others’ mouths, he doesn’t move. it’s still sweet. 

normally, when they have sex, lucas scratches angry red lines down eliott’s back. but now, he’s just smoothing his hands across the skin and lingering on the knobs of eliott’s vertebrae, gentle touches like kisses. it’s tender, almost out of place once again, and eliott makes a promise to himself to make love to lucas a hell of a lot more often. 

“fuck, baby,” lucas moans, sliding his hands back to eliott’s shoulders. “feels so good. love you.”

“love you.” he kisses lucas again, and then breaks away to moan. “you’re so fucking tight, shit. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

lucas pulls his hands back, rests them up by his ears. eliott moves his right hand over to lace their fingers together, and then his left. he holds himself up on their intertwined hands, and it kind of hurts but it’s so fucking intimate that eliott wouldn’t let go for the world. he wants to spend the rest of his life doing that: holding lucas’s hands. he’d die a happy man if he could do that. 

he’s so fucking close. 

“i want to spend forever with you,” eliott whispers against lucas’s mouth. “i know that’s not very minute for minute of me, i’m sorry. but it’s true. i don’t want to be with anyone else ever. i want to spend the rest of my life next to you. can i do that?”

lucas nods, and eliott figures it’s probably just the sex talking. lucas is  _ terrified  _ of the future. like, absolutely petrified of it. he hates talking about it, he hates thinking about it even. eliott knows that. he tries not to get offended or hurt by it, knows that it isn’t lucas having a fear of commitment but rather about lucas having a fear of being left behind. eliott understands that. they both suffer from the insufferable fear of being unlovable. eliott wishes he could kiss that away, show lucas just how easy to love he is. 

because  _ he is.  _ lucas is so easy to love. he’s just… he’s  _ everything.  _ he’s all-consuming. he makes eliott want to do things. he makes eliott see things in vivid colors again. 

he’s the meaning of life. 

“i’m close,” lucas whimpers, moving back against eliott’s thrusts. “touch me, please, i need you.”

eliott hates to let go of lucas’s hands, but he makes the sacrifice. and it only takes a few pulls before lucas is shooting between them, covering himself in cum as he moans his orgasm against eliott’s lips. eliott returns his hand to lucas’s and then picks up the pace just slightly, chasing his own release. 

when it hits him, he moans out lucas’s name, and  _ only  _ lucas’s name. just once, because once is enough. all of his feelings are in it. 

they lay there for a few minutes once they’re done, just breathing and basking in the afterglow. it’s eliott that gets up first, cleans up the mess they’ve made and then throws away the condom. lucas accepts him back into bed with open arms when he returns, and eliott lays between his legs again, head pillowed on the center of his chest so he can hear lucas’s heartbeat. lucas’s hands rest on eliott’s back, drawing hearts on his skin and raising trails of goosebumps in the wake of his fingertips. 

“i could stay here forever,” eliott murmurs. he figures it’s a good promise. he’s showing lucas he does trust him, he trusts him enough to put the rest of his life right here in lucas’s bed. 

“so stay here forever,” lucas whispers. “i sleep better with you, anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by anonymous on tumblr :P
> 
> find me on tumblr @elullemant


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